


I'm Wrapped Around Your Finger

by mariawritesstuff



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: friendship fic, it's like, pre ashton, so he's not in it at all i'm sorry ash ily, this is such a weird thing idk what it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-10-14
Packaged: 2018-04-26 10:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5000476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariawritesstuff/pseuds/mariawritesstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Calum goes to Brazil for a football thing. Michael and Luke miss him lots.</p>
<p>Or, a fic based on Wrapped Around Your Finger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Wrapped Around Your Finger

**Author's Note:**

> Ok I know I always say it but I actually literally have no idea why this exists. I wasn't even listening to wayf but for no apparent reason I decided to spend saturday writing a fic based on it. I partly hate myself for it fuck I have so many regrets but it's too late so whatevs. Thanks to Tara for beta-ing (and teasing me for willingly writing muke even though I "hate" the ship). Enjoy I guess.

“Don’t go.”

It’s a muffled sound that Michael barely whispers where his face is pressed against the crook of Calum’s neck but the younger boy knows. Between the two of them speaking is merely out of habit. They don't need to exchange words to know what the other is thinking. It’s Michael’s favourite thing about their friendship because he never knows how to say what he’s feeling but Calum just gets it anyway. Calum gets _him_. Which is why he doesn’t know how he’s going to cope for a whole month without him. They haven’t been apart for longer than a day since they became friends (the longest being the one time they got into a serious argument on a Friday afternoon and Calum went to one of his football friends’ house on the Saturday instead of spending the night at Michael’s like he usually did. He came over immediately after lunch though). But now Calum is going to Brazil for some football thing and while it’s an amazing opportunity and Michael really is happy for him, one day without Calum was excruciating. One month might actually kill him.

“I have to, Mikey,” Calum sighs. “It’s already paid.”

“Obviously you’re going.” Michael rolls his eyes even though Calum can't see him. Realistically Calum should be the one curled into Michael, being the smaller of the pair, but Michael needs it this way and they both know it. It’s an unspoken agreement. “I wouldn’t actually ask you not to go – it’s too good to miss. I just mean-”

“Yeah, I know.” Of course he does. Calum always knows. “Look on the bright side though! At least you’ll have Luke!”

“Ugh,” Michael grumbles. “Fuck Luke.”

“Well, you can if you really want to…”

“Ew, shut the fuck up.” Michael shoves Calum but quickly pulls him close again as the dark-haired boy laughs. “We both know I’m not the one he wants anyway.” He doesn’t have to see Calum’s face to know that he’s blushing. He feels the way the younger boy hides his smile in Michael’s hair and smirks to himself.

“I’m sure you could woo him,” Calum mumbles, neatly avoiding Michael’s insinuation.

“I could easily woo him, I’m the smoothest motherfucker in all of Sydney. But I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Thanks,” Calum says dryly, knowing there’s no point in arguing with Michael once he’s latched onto something. Michael grins victoriously. “You will try though, yeah?”

“What, to woo him?”

“No, you idiot. Just…you know. Be nice.”

Michael smirks up at Calum.

“Okay, Cal, I’ll be nice to your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Calum replies almost instinctively, used to the exchange they’ve had many times.

“Right, right,” Michael hums and Calum shakes his head fondly.

They fall into a cosy silence clinging to each other in the dark room for the rest of the time they have until Calum’s phone rings and he has to remove one arm from around Michael to reach into his pocket and pull it out.

“Hey mum,” he says quietly into the phone. “Oh, ok. Yeah I’m coming now.” And Michael knows that their time is up. He feels stupid for the way the back of his eyes start to prickle and he wraps his arms tighter as Calum pockets his phone and sighs.

“Michael-”

“Yeah, I know,” Michael grunts, releasing the younger boy. Calum smiles apologetically as he scoots off the bed before holding out a hand to pull Michael up as well. They keep their hands clasped as they leave Michael’s bedroom, walking through the silent house. His parents are at work and, with no siblings to liven up the place, Michael’s chest tightens as he realises just how lonely he’s going to be without Calum.

When they reach the front door, Calum opens it but Michael grips his hand tighter. He isn’t ready to say goodbye. If he could, he would go with Calum and his family to the airport, but it’s one of those days when he physically can’t bring himself to leave his house. Calum understands. He faces him and smiles sadly.

“I’ll be back soon.”

“No you won't.” Michael doesn’t mean to pout but there’s no point hiding it from Calum. The dark-haired boy nods acceptingly, before leaning up to press a soft kiss to Michael’s lips that says, “ _I’m sorry_ ” and “ _you’ll be okay_ ” and “ _I’ll miss you_ ” and most importantly “ _I love you_ ” all at once. Michael returns it the same and when they pull away he still isn’t ready to say goodbye but he understands.

Neither of them says anything when their hands fall away from each other’s and Calum steps out and climbs onto his bicycle. They don't need to speak to communicate their thoughts as Calum rides down the street, blowing Michael a kiss before he disappears around the corner. And if Michael does shed a tear or three, well, nobody needs to know about it.

* * *

Michael sulks for a good three days, refusing to leave his room for anything other than food and the toilet. He’d carry on longer except that on the fourth day of no Calum, the doorbell rings and he’s hoping it’s the pizza he ordered but, no, it’s a nervous-looking Luke Hemmings smiling tentatively.

“Hi” he offers.

“What’re you doing here?” Michael asks bluntly. Luke flinches.

“I, um…I thought we could…like…hang out or something. But I can go if it’s…if you…”

Michael almost does tell him to go, to leave him to wallow in his Calum-less misery. But Calum’s voice rings in his head telling him to be nice and he could practically hear the hopefulness through the text when Calum asked him if he’d seen Luke yet, the disappointment when Michael said he hadn’t been feeling great so no (which wasn’t technically a lie – he’d been feeling like shit without Calum’s presence). So he decides to do this for Calum’s sake.

“Come in,” he grunts, stepping aside and opening the door wider. Luke looks surprised, as though he hadn’t actually expected Michael to agree. It’s almost endearing. Well, it would be if Michael had the capacity to be endeared right now. He turns and trudges back to his bedroom, expecting Luke to follow.

He crawls back under the sheets in the dark room and faces the wall. He hears Luke shut the bedroom door but nothing else and figures the boy doesn’t know what to do with himself. See, if it were Calum he would know to get into the bed as well, not just stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.

“So uh,” Luke speaks, “what d’you wanna do?”

Again, if it were Calum he would know that Michael doesn’t want to do anything at all. But if Michael is going to be honest with himself he really does appreciate that Luke made the effort to come see him. It’s not that they aren’t friends; it’s just that they’ve never spent time together without Calum as a buffer. And maybe Luke is only doing this to get in Calum’s good books but maybe he’s just looking for some company. After all, neither of them have any other friends.

“Wanna play Xbox?” Michael offers, rolling to face Luke. The younger boy’s face lights up.

“Yeah, sure, what should we play?”

Michael clambers out of bed and leads Luke out of his room.

“Whatever. Black Ops?”

Luke nods enthusiastically. They settle on the couch in the living room and Michael tosses Luke a controller as he sets up the game. They haven’t been playing for very long when the doorbell rings again, this time the pizza. Michael retrieves it and pays, dropping it on the coffee table and telling Luke to help himself as he hits play.

“I thought you hated Hawaiian?”

“I do. Pineapples on pizza is fucking disgusting,” Michael replies vehemently.

“Agreed,” Luke laughs. “So why d’you get it?”

“Just felt like it,” Michael shrugs and reloads his gun.

“Calum loves it, I don’t get why.” Luke shakes his head uncomprehendingly. And then realisation seems to dawn on him. Michael grits his jaw and fights the blush crawling up his neck at the pitying look Luke gives him.

“It’s okay to miss him,” Luke shrugs. He adds in a smaller voice, “I miss him.”

“It’s not that,” Michael groans frustratedly. “Whatever, you won't get it.”

“He’s my friend too,” Luke points out defensively.

“Yeah, but it’s different. I’ve known him since we were eight.”

Luke goes quiet and, from the corner of his eye, Michael sees the way his face drops. He knows it still gets to Luke how the other two have been in each other’s lives for so long, knows Luke still feels like an outsider sometimes when he sees how comfortable they are with each other’s families or when they exchange a joke and Calum has to recount whichever event from their childhood spawned it. And while a part of Michael holds on to that in a sort of greedy satisfaction, knowing there’s a part of his and Calum’s friendship that Luke will never get in on, he can’t help but feel a little bit bad.

“He really likes you,” Michael blurts.

“What?” Luke frowns slightly, not yet quite able to keep up with how quickly Michael jumps between topics.

“Calum,” Michael clarifies. “He really likes you.”

It’s almost funny the way Luke’s eyes widen, cartoonish.

“I- what-” Luke stammer, “I mean, why…um…why do you say that?”

Michael snorts inwardly at the hopefulness that Luke is trying and failing to hide in his voice. He really is an open book.

“I can get pretty…stubborn about stuff. Usually Cal doesn’t care enough to argue about it. But with you he always put up a fight, and for so long as well. Every time you came up in our conversations he’d insist that you were a cool guy and wouldn’t back down. He’s never that…pushy. Must be something about you,” Michael finishes with a shrug. He considers adding on how whenever he makes a snide joke about Luke’s evident crush, Calum blushes and barely controls his stupidly cute, shy smile but he’s too much of a good friend to betray Calum by telling _how_ he likes their youngest friend.

“Oh,” is all Luke says. When Michael glances away from the screen to the boy next to him, Luke is chewing on his lip in an obvious effort to control his happiness. Michael rolls his eyes.

“You can go ahead and smile about it idiot, I know _you_ like him.”

Luke startles at that and this time Michael snorts out loud at Luke actually thinking he was subtle.

“I don't- um?” the younger boy giggles awkwardly.

“Dude its fine,” Michael says calmly as he shoots another zombie in the head. “Everyone likes Calum; he’s that guy.” He doesn’t mention the fact that this is the first time Calum’s ever _really_ liked someone back, doesn’t mention how that terrifies him, how scared he is to not be Calum’s primary focus. It was bound to happen eventually. He just has to have enough faith in their friendship to believe that he’ll always be something to Calum.

“What about you?” Luke asks quietly, snapping Michael out of his thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Do you like him?”

“He’s my best friend,” Michael answers automatically.

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” Michael keeps his attention firmly on the game, too anxious to let himself think about what he knows Luke is really asking.

“Do you _like_ like him?”

“ _Like_ like? What are you, ten?” Michael teases meanly, hoping Luke will drop it. He doesn’t.

“Michael, do you like Calum as more than your best friend?”

Michael doesn’t answer, shrugs noncommittally and keeps his eyes on the screen, but that’s answer enough for Luke if the way he sighs is anything to go by. Both boys stay in silence, killing zombies as a team until Luke speaks up again.

“D’you think Cal will be proud of us for finding something else we have in common?”

Michael turns to him so fast he might actually get whiplash. Luke’s lips are pursed with unreleased laughter and his blue eyes are watching Michael with an impish glint to them.

And Michael laughs. He laughs because he doesn’t know what else to do, but also because it really actually is funny. Of course Calum would be right about that – about them being so similar to the point where they even have the same taste, both in girls and in guys. Or _guy_ really. It’s ridiculous and Michael can't stop laughing, laughs even harder when Luke joins in and they laugh until they’re both doubled over, their game forgotten, and they’re curled into each other, laughing at the absurdity of it all.

* * *

If Michael had to describe Luke’s house in one word, he would choose “overwhelming”. Maybe it would be slightly less so if he’d come from Calum’s house, where there’s usually _someone_ around. But he’s spent the best part of two weeks cooped up in his own house that’s empty for the best part of the day until his parents come home and they all sit around watching the telly. So when he walks into Luke’s house and is immediately hit with a wall of noise he isn’t prepared for it.

As soon as Luke steps aside to let him in, he’s joined by a cheery woman.

“Hi! You must be Michael,” she beams. “I’m Liz, Luke’s mum.”

“Nice to meet you,” Michael says politely. He’s startled by an eruption of loud shouting from further inside the house and Liz sighs.

“That’s just Ben and Jack. Lewi, go tell them to keep it down, won’t you?” The exasperation is evident in her tone as she walks off.

“Ben and Jack are my brothers,” Luke explains as he leads Michael towards to living room. Michael nods, having heard that information before. When they walk in, there are two guys lounging on the couch and yelling at the match on TV.

“Mum says to keep it down,” Luke relays.

“Shut up, Lewi,” one of them calls, grinning playfully as he glances over the couch. His eyes slide towards Michael. “Oh, who’s this?”

“This is my friend, Michael,” Luke introduces him.

“Whoa another friend?” The other guy gasps. “Look at you go!” They both snicker and a blush spreads on Luke’s cheeks as he mutters a “fuck off” under his breath, grabbing Michael’s arm and pulling him towards the stairs.

“Are you in love with this one too?”

“No, and I’m not in love with Calum!” Luke practically shrieks as he drags Michael up and his brothers erupt into booming laughter. When they get to Luke’s room, he slams the door and groans, flopping down onto the bed and burying his bright red face in a pillow. Michael takes the opportunity to study Luke’s room. It’s not much different from his own, smaller, but covered wall to wall with posters similar to Michael’s. He checks off the essentials – All Time Low, Green Day and Blink – before taking in all the rest. Unsurprisingly, there’s a lot of Good Charlotte. Luke is predictable in that.

“You can sit on the bed,” comes Luke’s muffled voice. Michael turns to him and the younger boy shifts into a sitting position to make space. Michael joins him as Luke reaches over and turns on his stereo, _Jasey Rae_ immediately playing.

“I’m not in love with him,” Luke mumbles. Michael glances over at him and he’s got his legs folded, chin pressed into the pillow he’s gripping tightly.

“Luke, you’re not very subtle,” Michael snorts, leaning his head against the wall and nodding to the music. “I could tell before I even knew you well.”

“Is that why you hated me?”

“What?”

“Because you knew I lo- like Calum. Is that why you hated me so much?” Luke asks, voice genuinely curious. To be honest, Michael had mostly stopped hating Luke for any particular reason by the end of it, just held on for the sake of being stubborn. But, originally, that had been it for the most part. The girl thing was trivial and they both know it. It was mainly because Luke obviously liked Calum, but also because Calum possibly liked Luke back.

But then Michael lets his head loll to the side and, when his eyes meet Luke’s inquisitive, bright blue ones, he knows it’s more than that. He knows there’s something else, something he’s ignored for as long as he can remember, something that draws his eyes down when Luke begins to chew nervously on his lip. He’s never acknowledged it, never needs to, and when he raises his eyes to Luke’s again, it’s clear that they both know there was never really any hatred there at all. It scares Michael a little, how casual it is, how they both just _know_ and they know that they know without having to say it. It scares and relieves him and he feels a little lightheaded when he springs off the bed and grabs Luke’s guitar.

“Let’s play something.”

* * *

It’s the middle of the night and Michael can't sleep. He’s having one of those nights again, the ones where his brain won’t stop racing and his throat feels constricted and he’s finding it hard to breathe. It keeps building up inside him, like he’s going to explode with it.

Normally he would call Calum. Hell, normally he would be with Calum right now, curled up tight in his too-small bed, drinking in his endless warmth, instead of sprawled on his cold sheets, in his too-quiet house, his parents fast asleep. But Calum isn’t there. Calum is halfway across the world. If Michael called he probably would answer if he could. He would talk him down; tell him about his (incredibly boring) football-filled day, knowing that the sound of his voice would be enough to soothe Michael. But Michael’s done the math – there’s a fourteen hour time difference, meaning it’s somewhere around ten in the morning for Calum and he’s probably in training right now so he won’t have his phone on him. Besides, the phone bill would be ridiculous.

He can’t call Calum but he needs to call _someone_ because he’s literally gasping for air but his parents wouldn't appreciate him waking them up, nor would they understand what he’s experiencing, would simply blame it on his “teen angst” or whatever. So Michael grabs his phone and calls the first person he can think of.

Luke doesn’t answer at first. As the ringback tone carries on Michael begins to lose hope and that pathetic stinging feeling starts to build in his eyes. But then the tone stops.

“Hello?” comes Luke’s groggy voice. Michael has never been so happy to hear him.

“Luke,” he breathes out, relieved.

“Michael, what the fuck? It’s like two am!”

“Sorry,” Michael whispers. He shouldn’t have called. No sane person would want to deal with him at this time. He needs Calum. “Forget it.”

“Wait,” Luke stops him. “Are you okay?” he asks, the concern audible in his voice. No, Michael is not okay but he isn’t going to bother Luke with his dumb thoughts.

“It’s nothing,” he barely manages to get out, voice tight in his throat.

“Michael, what is it? What’s wrong?” Luke’s tone is gentle, coaxing, and Michael almost bursts into tears right then. To be honest, he doesn’t even know what’s wrong himself. It’s everything and nothing at the same time. How does he even begin to describe it out loud?

“I don’t know,” he says finally. Luke is silent for a while and Michael almost thinks he’s fallen asleep again. But then his voice comes through again.

“Do you want me to come over?”

Michael appreciates the gesture, he really does, but the room is suffocating him, the whole house is suffocating him and in the time it takes Luke to get dressed and get there Michael thinks he might actually die. He shakes his head before realising that Luke can’t see him.

“No,” he coughs. “I can't…I don't wanna stay here. Feels like I can't breathe.” It feels like a tiny victory, a small step in the right direction that he’s admitted that much out loud.

“Okay, do you wanna come to mine?”

Something washes through Michael’s body at that offer, the paralysis in his muscles loosening slightly.

“I- would- do you mind?” he asks in a small voice.

“No, not at all. Just call me when you get here, in case I fall asleep again.” He huffs out a laugh and the sound brings a smile to Michael’s lips.

“Thanks,” he says, hoping Luke knows how much he means it.

“No problem, Mikey. See you in a bit.”

The line cuts and Michael quickly scrambles out of bed, eager to get out of this place. He pulls on his converse and a jacket and leaves the house as quietly as he can.

In the ten-or-so minutes it takes him to walk to Luke’s, Michael realises he’s forgotten his phone and groans because he can’t call Luke to let him know when he gets there and it’s not like he can just walk up to the front door and ring the bell at god awful o-clock. He sneaks around to the back of the Hemmings house and whisper-shouts at what he knows to be Luke’s window, to no avail. Sighing frustratedly, he looks around for anything that can help his cause – a ladder maybe. He eventually settles on a few pebbles he spots next to the flowerbed and chucks them up at the desired window. It takes about four of the little rocks for Luke’s sleepy face to appear at the window, frowning cutely down at Michael and the older boy can’t help but smile fondly at the sight.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Luke asks when he opens the window. “Why didn’t you call?”

“Forgot my phone,” Michael explains. Luke scoffs.

“Now what? Are you gonna read me poetry? Or scale the side of the house? Ask me to let down my hair?” he jokes around a yawn.

“Fuck off,” Michael rolls his eyes but his smile grows. “Just open the door for me.”

Luke grins back, pulling the window shut and Michael steps up onto the back porch. The door opens soon and Luke appears with a blanket around his shoulders He wordlessly grabs Michael by the wrist and pulls him inside, shuts the door quietly before leading Michael up to his room. When they arrive, he sits on the bed and folds up his legs, patting the space beside him for Michael.

“So what’s up?” he finally asks. Michael keeps his gaze low and shrugs.

“Can’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

Michael shrugs again. It’s a strange thing to try to vocalise. He’s never had to before.

“Brain won’t shut up,” he settles on. He’s expecting Luke to ask more questions that he won’t know how to answer, so it’s a surprise when Luke simply sighs and says,

“Yeah, I know the feeling.”

Michael looks up at him.

“You do?”

“Mm,” Luke nods with a small frown. “When you’re thinking about too many things at once and you can’t focus on any single one and all you really want is for your mind to just go blank but it won’t listen and then it just gets so overwhelming and all you want is for it to just…stop.” Luke deflates a little and his shoulders slump. Michael just gapes at him, saddened that his friend feels this way but also relieved that it’s not just him and somebody else gets this way.

“Yeah,” he agrees softly. “That’s it.”

The two boys sit quietly until Luke speaks up again.

“Wanna go to the beach?”

“I hate the beach,” Michael makes a face.

“So did I,” Luke laughs gently. “But Calum took me there once when I kinda…thought too much. It’s really good for clearing your head. The air and the stars and the waves…just calms you down, lets you think more easily.”

A part of Michael immediately gets jealous at the thought of Calum and Luke spending time together without him, even though he obviously knew that had been happening. He finds himself wondering if there was already more than the pair let on before Calum left. His question must be apparent on his face because Luke quickly clarifies.

“It wasn’t anything!” And the younger boy’s face reddens visibly, even in the dark room. “He was just being a friend. In fact, he did say he wishes you would go with him. Maybe when he gets back you can show him the progress you made!”

“Yeah, maybe,” Michael scoffs halfheartedly. “That means we actually have to go, though. So come on.”

Not long later, they’re stuffing blankets into the basket of Luke’s bicycle and Michael is climbing on behind the younger boy, gripping tightly as they set off down the quiet suburban street. The crisp, night air hits Michael’s face and he closes his eyes, willing his brain to relax.

It doesn’t take too long before the scent of salt-water creeps into Michael’s nose and he opens his eyes as Luke comes to a halt. They grab the blankets and trudge towards the sand. Michael’s eyes are glued to the roaring black waves, pulsing upwards to claim as much of the shore as they can.

“It’s kinda scary, isn’t it?” Luke speaks. Michael glances at him. “The ocean. Just, like, how powerful it is, you know? Or, like, how much it’s seen.”

“Yeah,” Michael nods. “Doesn’t it make you feel kinda…small? Like, insignificant?”

“It does, sometimes, yeah,” Luke admits. “I like to yell at it.”

Michael raises an eyebrow.

“Yell at it?”

“Mmhm. I dunno, it kinda makes me feel less small. Like, sort of powerful in a way. It’s also a good way of letting it out. Whatever ‘ _it_ ’ is.” Luke shrugs. Michael turns to face the dark body of water. It’s as though with each wave that crashes and pulls back, the heaviness in his stomach is being pulled higher and higher until it’s sitting in his throat and he opens his mouth and lets it out as a scream.

And god, is it cathartic. He barely draws a breath before another scream is being ripped out of him, this one longer and louder, fortified with the riotous thoughts in his head. He screams until he can’t breathe, until his head begins to feel dizzy, until his lungs squeeze too tight in his chest and he’s gasping for air. But it’s satisfying. He’s not entirely free from his mind prison, but it’s better than before.

When Michael turns back, Luke is watching him curiously. The bright moonlight casts an eerie glow on his hair and over his features and Michael can't help but think that the younger boy looks a bit like an angel – his guardian angel maybe. Michael snorts softly at the thought and walks back towards him.

“Feel better?” Luke asks. Michael shrugs but flashes an appreciative smile. Luke nods, understanding and lays out the blankets for them to lie on. Michael drops down immediately and lifts his gaze to the sky. The stars blink down, watching him watching them and he feels a smile creep on his face.

“That’s gonna be us one day,” he announces as Luke lowers next to him, close but not quite touching.

“We’re gonna be balls of hot gas in space?” his sarcasm is apparent and Michael rolls his eyes.

“No, you dumbass.” He grins at Luke. “Rock stars.”

“But stars are made of gas,” Luke points out with a blank expression.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Michael groans and Luke finally cracks, giggling playfully.

“I hope you’re right. That’d be the dream,” he says finally.

“Can you imagine it?” Michael muses looking back up at the sky. “Travelling the country, seeing these same stars from a different point of view, while doing what we love.”

“Yeah,” Luke breathes. Michael leans up on one elbow and turns to him.

“We have to do this, Luke. Or, like, at least try. Pinkie promise?”

Luke giggles at first but stops when he sees that Michael is serious. He nods solemnly and hooks his pinkie finger around Michael’s. They hold it for a moment to be sure they’re both 100% in this, before Michael finally cracks a smile and falls back serenely. They fall into a silence, content to just lie there listening to the waves rise and crash rhythmically, watching the stars burn millions of miles away.

Michael isn’t expecting it when he feels Luke’s hand slip into his own, fingers tentatively curling around his. He isn’t expecting it but he doesn’t dare pull away, doesn’t dare look at Luke either. He isn’t expecting it but at the same time he sort of is. He knows what this is, what this means. Luke does too. They both understand the way in which they need each other and right now that’s what it takes for Michael’s brain to finally quiet down enough for him to drift off to the lull of the ocean.

* * *

“How long are you gonna be grounded for? I’m tired of having to leave my house.”

“Well, considering I wouldn’t be grounded if I hadn’t gone through the effort of dropping you at home and had gotten home earlier, I think you can deal.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re a star.” Michael rolls his eyes as he toes off his sneakers, immediately clambering uninvited onto Luke’s bed. Luke isn’t even in bed; he’s sat at his desk probably doing homework like the giant nerd that he is. But as soon as Michael is on, he abandons whatever he was doing and climbs in as well, snuggling into Michael.

“So needy,” Michael teases as he wraps his arms around the smaller boy. Luke shrugs and makes an indecipherable sound, too shameless in his need for cuddles to deny it.

“You excited?”

“For what?” Michael frowns. Luke’s eyes widen comically.

“Calum’s back tomorrow!” He looks so shocked that Michael can't hold his façade and bursts into laughter.

“I know, you dipshit!” he cackles. “You should’ve seen your face!”

“I thought you’d actually forgotten,” Luke shakes his head with relief. As if Michael could forget. As if he hasn’t been counting down the days. Hours, if he’s being honest. It’s about twenty-six hours until Calum’s flight lands. Michael plans on being the first person he sees.

“Guess you don’t know me at all,” Michael sighs in mock hurt. “And here I was thinking we had something special.”

Luke rolls his eyes and is about to say something but never does.

“Wow, I knew all that hatred was steeped in sexual tension.”

Both boys’ heads whip round to where the voice came from.

“CALUM!” they both shriek, launching themselves at the boy standing in the doorway. Michael gets there first and almost bowls him over with the force with which he slams into him. Calum doesn’t seem to mind, though, laughing easily and gripping Michael back just as tightly.

“What the fuck?” Michael yells, pulling back just enough to grab Calum’s face. “You aren’t supposed to be here for another twenty-six hours!”

“Yeah, I- wait, were you counting down the hours until I got back?” Calum smirks.

“Shut up.” Michael slaps his cheek softly. “Why’re you back early? Did you get kicked out?”

Calum laughs.

“Nah, I was always supposed to come back today. I just told you tomorrow so I could surprise you.”

“But I was gonna come to the airport,” Michael pouts. Calum raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, you want me to go back? I can just…” Calum begins to back away.

“Shut up,” Michael repeats, tugging the dark-haired boy closer. Calum giggles and pulls Michael into another hug. Michael buries his face in Calum’s neck and breathes him in, the familiarity of him – his human home. He’d hold on forever (or at least for the rest of the day) but Calum begins to release him and Michael reluctantly lets him once he realises why.

“Hey, Luke,” Calum grins.

“Hey.” Michael doesn’t need to look to know the youngest boy is blushing but he does anyway and resists the urge to roll his eyes. The two of them come together in a hug that isn’t as violent as Calum and Michael’s, but clearly holds a lot.

When they separate, Calum is wearing a face-splitting grin as he glances between the two of them. Michael wants to tease him but he can't control the way his mouth turns up and soon all three of them are just standing there smiling at each other. Calum grabs their hands and drags them towards the bed.

“So, how’ve my boys been?” he asks.

Luke and Michael glance at each other and shrug.

“We wrote a song.”

**Author's Note:**

> Um......yeah. Sorry about that. But thanks for reading? Comment if you want?


End file.
